


Of Vices and Enervation

by Japo_Chan23



Series: We Were Nothing [2]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Beginning and End of a Relationship, Drinking, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kind of it's in the universe in the main fic, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Minor Character Death, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Prequel, Smoking, Snapshots, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27560266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Japo_Chan23/pseuds/Japo_Chan23
Summary: Lana breathes in deeply, and visibly relaxes as she smiles at Link. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she says, bringing her legs up to her chest. She tilts her head at the blonde as he sits down with a grunt.He turns his head, and smiles. “I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I’ve been coming by here everyday after we first met, just to see if you’d be around.”“That’s a little stalkerish,” Lana says with a snort as she lets out another puff of smoke, but she looks more amused than offended. Link relaxes, and leans more towards Lana.“Sorry,” Link murmurs, snuffing his cigarette out. “I should’ve just asked for dinner when we first met.”
Relationships: Lana/Link (Legend of Zelda)
Series: We Were Nothing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913878
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Of Vices and Enervation

**Author's Note:**

> “From the base of her neck  
> to the arch of her eyelids  
> her beauty made a slave of me.”  
> -Adonis

**Brooklyn | Amersfort Park | January 1st | 12:34pm**

There’s a cigarette hanging from his lips as he scrolls through the contents of his phone, watching the horror of the world from behind his screen.

He grabs the cigarette, and breathes out, the smoke disappearing as he ashes the cigarette. 

He takes a huff of the cigarette.

“You know those are bad for you, right?”

Link glances up, and snorts when he spots who spoke to him. “Ever think of taking your own advice?” Link pats the seat on the bench next to him, and he eyes the woman up and down, quirking his brow up. 

She was beautiful. Blue hair tied up loosely, strands that draped over her shoulders while the rest that were tied in the back cascaded down her back. Her facial features were soft, and her eyes were sharp, creased slightly from her wide smile.

There’s a cigarette in between her fingers, and the smoke of the stick intermingles with his own.

Link grins as he brings the cigarette back up to his lips.

**Brooklyn | Amersfort Park | January 7th | 4:20pm**

“Funny seeing you here, stranger.”

Lana glances up at him, cigarette hanging loosely from her lips, lighter in hand. Link leans forward, face close to Lana’s, as he straightens his own cigarette, lighting Lana’s with the ember that remained on his. 

Lana breathes in deeply, and visibly relaxes as she smiles at Link. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she says, bringing her legs up to her chest. She tilts her head at the blonde as he sits down with a grunt. 

He turns his head, and smiles. “I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I’ve been coming by here everyday after we first met, just to see if you’d be around.”

“That’s a little stalkerish,” Lana says with a snort as she lets out another puff of smoke, but she looks more amused than offended. Link relaxes, and leans more towards Lana. 

“Sorry,” Link murmurs, snuffing his cigarette out. “I should’ve just asked for dinner when we first met.”

Lana giggles, and covers her mouth, and Link falls into a fit of giggles with her, leaning against her. “You’re so corny,” she says, not moving her hand from its place over her mouth. Her cigarette remained lit, and she ashes it. She stares at it for a moment before snuffing it out. 

Link lifted his eyebrows for a moment as he chuckled. “Cornier the better, right?”   
  
“I’ve never heard  _ anyone _ say that.”

“Well now you have!”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | January 25th | 5:12pm**

“Babe!”

“Yeah?”   


“I told you how pretty you are right?”

“Only everyday.”

“I need to tell you more often, then.”

**Brooklyn | Lefferts Ave | January 27th | 1:22pm**

“Your home is beautiful,” Link murmurs, slipping his hand into Lana’s. 

She turns her head up to look at him, and she snorts, eyes crinkling from her smile. “Just like you are,” she says, just as quietly. Just as meaningfully. 

He pressed a kiss to her temple as she leads him up to her room. “Hey now, this is your parents house,” Link laughs, and Lana swats at him as she tries to surprise her giggle. 

“We’re just getting my stuff, don’t make it weird.” She pats his arm once again and she grabs a bag, and begins to grab things out of her closet, off of shelves, anything. They had a few boxes as well, and Link wrapped some of the more fragile objects. 

“Your family knows you’re moving out, right?” Link asks as he’s looking through Lana’s drawers. He smiles softly when he finds an old photo of Lana with her friend Midna. He places it down, before he allows his fingers to roam throughout the empty space of the drawer. 

“Just the parents. Sister’s gonna flip,” Lana says. She comes up behind Link, wrapping her arms around his waist whilst leaning over his shoulder to see what he was doing. She sighs softly, but Link can hear her smile as he brings his hand up to her face, holding a small baggie. 

“Hiding your stash?” He brings the baggie closer to Lana’s face and shakes it slightly. 

Lana makes a reach for it, and Link quickly brings it out of her arms reach “Give it back! That was expensive!” 

“Gotta be the good stuff, right?” Link opens the baggie, taking a quick sniff of it. He groans. “ _ Oh  _ Lana, you gotta hook me up with your dealer.”

“If you keep acting like that I won’t!”

“...so are we gonna get baked?”

“Link!”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 3rd | 7:25pm**

Link yawns as he stretches on the couch, grunting as he settles back then. There’s a crick in his neck and he rubs it, hoping for it to get out of his head.

Lana yawns from her spot on top of him, face buried in the crook of his neck, some drool dripping and staining his shirt. He sighs softly, and he rubs her arm before he begins to play her blue locks.

They were soft, and Link loved the feeling of her hair against his palms, in the spaces between his fingers, as it fell back in place. He tilts his head, watching once more as he lifted a strand of her hair up, only for it to leave his grasp quickly, falling back against Lana’s back.

Link wraps his arm around Lana once more, and looks up at the ceiling, before he shut his eyes, falling back asleep.

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 5th | 11:22am**

“We should go to bed soon,” Link whispers into Lana’s skin, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. 

She licks her lips before she yawns quietly. “It’s not that late though.”

“Lana, it’s  _ eleven in the morning _ .”

“...so?”

“Lana I  _ swear _ .”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 10th | 12:34am**

Lana came home with another bottle of Hennessy. 

Link retires to bed earlier than normal that night. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 14th | 7:52pm**

Lana lays above Link, her head tucked in the crook of his neck. He peppered the side of her head with soft kisses that she didn’t react to besides moving in closer to him. 

He chuckles against her hair, and his hands trails down to his backside, fingers brushing over the skin the peaked out below her crop top. 

She sits up, eyeing Link for a moment, before she captures his lips, and they’re kissing passionately, the heat between them intensifying as he grabbed at her, pulling her as close as he could. 

It wasn’t close enough. 

Lana gasps into their kiss, and Link laughs for a moment before he bites her bottom lip harshly, rolling it in between his set of teeth, and Lana grunts.

Link chuckles as he moves his hand to another area, and a moan escapes from Lana as she buries her face into Link’s shoulder once more as he rests his hands on Lana’s hips, gripping tightly. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 14th | 8:00pm**

There’s a gasp by his ear, and Link sighs. “You’re mine,” he whispers, biting the shell of her ear. “And I’m yours.”

Lana moans into his neck, before kissing it harshly, nipping at his skin with her teeth. “I’m yours, and you’re mine,” she repeats as she sits up, capturing his lips once more as she ground down against him. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 15th | 6:10am**

When Link wakes up, he glances down at Lana’s sleeping form.

Her bottom lip is swollen, hair tangled and forming a mess of swirls that decorated their pillow.

Link wraps an around her, rubbing her back in large circles as he stared at the ceiling, brow furrowing in though. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 17th | 4:23pm**

“You’re home late,” Link mumbles, pulling his cigarette out from between his lips. He lets his arm drape over the side of the couch, and he ashes it over the ashtray that he placed there just moments ago because he was too exhausted to sit up. 

“Busy with parents,” Lana sighs, sitting in Link’s lap. She holds a hand out, and Link hands her the cigarette as he sits up, wrapping his arms around her waist. He presses a kiss against her neck and she huffs. “They mean well and all, but it’s still annoying how they’re trying to control my life still. I’m an adult, I think I can handle it,” she grumbles, letting out of a puff of smoke.

Link blinks tiredly into her shoulder, and he hums, nodding slightly. “Sounds exhausting. Like you said though, they mean well. Maybe you should try and see it from their perspective.”

Lana groans as she rolls are eyes dramatically. “You don’t get it Link, your parents aren’t here to-” 

Lana cuts herself off quickly, but Link had already pulled back, letting go of her. “Lana, what the  _ fuck _ .”

“Fuck,” Lana rubs her eyes, grabbing Link’s hands. She plays with his fingers, but he doesn’t move as he swallows the lump in his throat, the sound audible. “I didn’t mean it baby, I didn’t mean to…” she breathes in heavily, before letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry.” She glances up at Link, licking her lips. “Forgive me?”

The blonde sighs as he wraps his arms around Lana once more. “Always. I’ll always forgive you”

**Brooklyn | Mount Sinai Hospital | April 17th | 12:22pm**

Lana was sobbing. 

Parents in a car accident, sister out of the country. 

Father passed away during surgery, mother living hasn’t woken up yet.

Link held Lana tight, whispering into her hair, occasionally pressing kisses against her temple. “We’ll get through this, Lana,” he says quietly, rubbing her arm as he pulls her tighter against him.

She doesn’t respond as she clutches his shirt, hiccuping in between sobs. 

Link’s heart hurts. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | April 26th | 9:57pm**

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a dad worth missing.”

“I’m sorry you do.”

**Brooklyn | Quaker Cemetery | May 18th | 6:22pm**

“She sounds amazing.”

“Yeah, she is… was. She would’ve loved you, Lana.”

“I don’t need to meet her to already know I love her just as much as I love you.” 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | May 24th | 6:30pm**

He’s kissing Lana and he tastes the alcohol on her lips. 

There’s something in the back of his head telling him to pour himself a shot, that it was fine, that he was an adult and that it would be okay if he were to just let the liquid enter his body once more, leaving a trail of fire down his throat. 

Link gasps, and shuts his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Lana, Lana, Lana.

He doesn’t stop thinking about the taste of Hennessy.

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | June 16th | 2:52am**

“My family wants to meet you.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

“It would mean a lot to me if you would meet them, Link.”

“Uh huh. Mhm. Sure.”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | June 24th | 11:02am**

Lana holds his hand, squeezing it gently.

Link sighs, taking his hand out of her hold. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | July 3rd | 2:22pm**

“Let’s get our own place,” Lana says one day, placing a bottle of wine on the coffee table. 

Link frowns. “This  _ is _ our own place, Lana,” he murmurs, staring at the bottle before he directs his attention to his blue haired girlfriend. 

Lana takes a seat next to him, placing her head on his shoulder. “I mean, it’s nice and all, but can we keep paying for it?” She asks quietly, playing with the collar of his shirt. 

“I told you before, it’s all already paid for, we don’t need to worry about it.” He rubs Lana’s back, and she sighs. 

She shakes her head as she leans forward, picking up the bottle of wine, and she takes a swig of it, not even bother to pour herself a glass.

Link tastes the bitterness of the alcohol on Lana’s tongue moments later.

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | July 30th | 5:47pm**

Link covers his mouth as he yawns quietly, and he tilts his head, staring at Lana from where she laid on the other side of their bed.

She’s napping, lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling steadily. Her hair decorated their pillow, leaving intricate designs that Link couldn’t help but admire.

She reaches out to him, her eyebrows pinching together, until her features relax once more when she finds Link, and he moves closer to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush against his chest. His body warms up quickly, and he brushes Lana’s hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His hand lingers against Lana’s cheeks, fingertips brushing her skin gently. 

“You’re asleep,” he whispers, pressing his lips lightly against her forehead, “you’re asleep and you’re mine. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.” He presses another kiss to the top of her head, and rubs her back gently as he focuses on her breathing, trying to match how often she breathes. 

Lana shifts slightly, and Link sighs, the corners of his lips pulling up into a gentle smile. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | August 12th | 1:17pm**

There are Seagram's in the fridge.

Link shuts the door quietly, pushing the thoughts of fruity alcohol away from his mind. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | September 11th | 3:24pm**

“Do you- do you wanna go to the cemetery?”

“What for?” Lana grumbles, looking away from Link. She taps the glass bottle in her hand for a moment, her fake nails making sound more prominent. He watches as she swirls the bottle around, just for a moment, the light pink of her seagrams swishing around for just a moment before stiling.

He swallows the lump in his throat. “You don’t want to visit your uncle? Or your dad?” Link whispers. He stretches his legs out over the couch, his feet ending up in Lana’s lap, and on reflex Lana places her hand over his ankle. 

She pauses before taking a sip of her drink. “Not today.” She rubs his ankle, patting it for a moment. 

Link sits up, and places his hand on her cheek. “We don’t need to if you don’t want to, doll,” he says quietly, turning her head so that she was facing him. 

Her eyes are red, the bags underneath her eyes prominent. She sucks in a breath as she nods quickly, and Link takes the Seagram's out of her hand, placing it on the ground. “Hey, hey it’s okay, it’s okay.” He left hand moves up to her head, his right hand onto her shoulder, and she instinctively places her head on his shoulder. “We can stay home, yeah?”

Lana places her hand on his chest while the other remained limp in her lap. She sniffles, but nods nonetheless. “That sounds nice,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes roughly. “Staying home. We should… we should go tomorrow, though, shouldn’t we?”

Link smiles softly as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “We can if you want to. If not, we can go do something else. Whatever you want.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. I love you.”

“I love you so much more.”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | October 31st | 9:12pm**

“Dude we ran out of candy to hand out.”

“Just put a blanket over your head and trick or treat to get more candy.”

“....do you think that would actually work?”

“Link,  _ no _ .”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | November 26th | 5:22am**

Neither of them felt like cooking. Well, they never feel like cooking, but they always put up with it and get off their ass and do it, and then cook  _ again  _ when they ran out of leftovers. 

Thanksgiving was a pain. Link still didn’t meet Lana’s family, and they didn’t exactly have the funds for a trip to California and back. Not for the both of them, at least. So having Thanksgiving with his family was out of the question as well.

KFC, on the other hand, was not. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | December 25th | 11:11am**

There’s a pair of rings in a small box, put into countless other boxes, before being wrapped up snug in duct tape, aluminum foil, rubber bands, duct tape again, and then by wrapping paper. 

It was a lot of work just for a couple of rings, but Link knew Lana would enjoy it. 

“Are you gonna open it?” Link asks, and he’s practically bouncing in his seat as he watched Lana fiddle with the box, lifting it and sharking it roughly.

“You  _ didn’t _ !” Lana laughs. She covers her mouth, dropping the box, and Link laughs along with her.

He couldn’t help it. Her joy is contagious, and he’s always more than content to share in share in her mirth. 

Lana began to tear away at the wrapping paper. She paused after tearing away at all the wrapping paper, and held a hand out expectantly when she spots the duct tape. “Scissors, please?” She pouts, and blinks up at Link.

Link rolls his eyes, but hands her the scissors nonetheless.

“Thank you so much babe, I love you.” She blows him a quick kiss as she resumes opening the box.

Link nearly falls asleep before he hears Lana give a shot of excitement, and she pulls out the small box. The last box.

She pops it open quickly, and pauses. “Promise rings?” She turns her head to look at Link, and he feels his heart give out a sigh of joy. 

“Yeah, yeah promise rings.” He slides off of the couch and onto the floor next to Lana. He takes one of the promise rings, a simple steel band with half of a heart on it. “I know it’s still a little early in the relationship, but I really do love you Lana, and I promise I’ll always love you.” He slips the ring on over his right ring finger, and takes the other ring out. 

Lana nods, and Link slides the ring over her finger. 

She leans her head onto his shoulder, and he presses a kiss against the top of her head. “Thank you,” Lana murmurs. She outstretched her hand, staring at the ring. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he whispers.

And Lana sits up, and her hands are placed over his cheeks, and she’s leaning forward, pressing her lips against his. The kiss is soft, tender, and is Link cherishes it. 

**Brooklyn | Cortelyou Rd | December 31st | 11:59pm**

“Five!”

**“** Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

Link turns his head, and Lana cups his cheeks. He snakes his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest as she stands up on her tip toes, pressing her lips against his roughly. Her hands move up to the back of his hair, and her fingers intertwine with his blonde locks.

There’s cheers and party poppers going off, and Lana pulls back, her grin wide. 

Link presses his forehead against hers and laughs loudly with the rest of the people inside the house, swaying slightly. His hands roam up Lana’s sides, down her arms, until they found her hands. He grasps them tightly, and presses a small kiss against her lips once more. 

He doesn’t taste or smell any alcohol on her lips. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | January 1st | 2:36pm**

“I love you so much.”

A laugh, and a small peck on the cheek.

“I love you so much more.”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | January 22nd | 6:47pm**

They’re laying on the couch just like always. 

Link presses a kiss against the top of Lana’s head, and she places one on his neck.

“I love you,” he whispers, raking his hands through his blue hair. 

“I love you too.”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 14th | 12:11am**

“Lana, fuck, you need to stop coming home like this.”

Link cups Lana’s face in his hands, and she stares at him, eyes unfocused and lips parted slightly. She had stumbled into the home moments before, words slurring together into incomprehensible sentences.

She swatted at his hands as she pulled away with a huff. “I’m going to bed,” she says with a roll of her eyes, and she scowls at him. 

Link reaches out, grabbing her shoulder roughly. “Lana, I’m serious, this isn’t good-”

“Can you just  _ not _ for one night, Link?” Lana grunts, staring at his hand in distaste as she prys it off of her shoulder. “I’m  _ tired _ and I don’t wanna deal with you tonight.”

“Well when you come home  _ wasted  _ like this of course I’m gonna worry!” Link rubs his face, groaning to himself. He freezes in thought, and he lets his hands drop from his face, his mouth parting and he feels out of breath. “How did you even get home? Did you get dropped off, take an Uber?” Lana looked away, her lips thinning, and Link’s eyes widen, his shoulders dropping. “Lana. Lana, you didn’t-  _ please _ tell me you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” Lana says, and Link sighs in relief. “Midna dropped me off, she said that she’ll take me to go get my car tomorrow when I’m sober. I’m tired.” She rubs her eyes before she started to undo her ponytail, tugging at the band harshly before it came undone, pulling out strands of blue hair while she was at it. 

Link sighs, and rubs his temples. Lana steps up to him, and feels like he’s about to be intoxicated from the amount of alcohol he can smell from Lana’s breath. 

She kisses him sloppily, and he pushes her away gently. “Go to bed Lana,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Whatever,” she whispers, slurring slightly. She places one final kiss on Link’s lips before she turns to go and make her way up the stairs, up towards their bedroom where she could rest and sober up.

The blonde frowns, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend. His hands clenched at his sides as he watches Lana slowly make her way up the stairs, watching her stumble as she leans most of her weight against the wall. 

On the couch by himself tonight it was.

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 20th | 11:11pm**

They had another argument. 

Money, addiction, the home, their families, past relationships, anything they could think of, they argued about. 

They never argued. 

Link can’t help it when he thinks back to their argument and compares it to his previous relationship with Artemis. 

When he goes up to their room to hopefully try and calm things down and bring them back to how it used to be, he can’t help but want to leave when he finds the door locked. 

“Lana,” Link says, knocking on the door softly before trying to open the door again. No use. He sighs once more, resting his forehead against the door, hands trapped between his chest and the door. “Please. I promise. I’ll do better. I’ll  _ be _ better. I promise. Please, just let me in.”

He hears Lana move on the bed, hears their duvet get thrown to the side and the bed squeak slightly when Lana stood up. 

Her footsteps are light as she makes her way up to the door. “Lana?”

“Go away Link,” she whispers, and Link closes his eyes. “I don’t wanna see you right now.”

“Please, Lana,” he whispers back, trailing his hands down the door. “Let me fix this.”

“Not right now, Link. Not right now.”

He hears Lana slide down the door, and he stays in his position for a moment, before deciding that Lana will talk to him when she decides to. They would get this. They always do. 

Link swallows. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He backs up slowly, before turning, retreating downstairs, to the couch where he sat anxiously, leg bouncing restlessly. 

Waiting. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 21st | 2:54am**

_ I’ll do better. I’ll be better. _

“You always do this shit, Link.”

“I’m sorry.” The ‘ _ I’ll be better’ _ is left unspoken, the words hanging in the air between them from a thread, swinging gently from the noose wrapped snug around its throat. “You shouldn’t have to go through this.”

_ We shouldn’t have to go through this.  _

“Why can’t you just-” she bites her lip, turning away. She hugs her body close to her, cigarette loose on her tongue, smoke trapping them both in the confines of each other, in the confines of the nicotine that buzzes beneath their skin and controls their bodies through their addiction. She sighs. “Link, why are we doing this?”   
  
“I don’t know anymore,” he says quietly, placing a hand against his face. They’re silent, exchanging a few words with idle glances, conveying as much as they could without a whisper. There are hands on his skin, on his shoulder, lips against his, on his cheek, his neck, going down, down, down.

He steps back, hissing as if he was burnt. “Don’t.” He places a hand against her cheek as she gazes up at him from where she kneeled at his feet, and he feels like something in him  _ yearns _ for the feeling of being touched, to be felt, to be loved. 

Not like this. Never like this. 

_ I’m sorry _ . “This was a mistake.”

“We don’t have to regret all of our mistakes,” she says, sliding her hands against his thighs. He feels warmth coil inside his stomach, but he pushes the feeling away when he feels the chilling bite of the wind against his cheek. 

“We’ll regret this one.” 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 21st | 10:22pm**

They’re laying on the couch, and Lana is in his arms once again, his hands roaming his back, exploring every part of her body he had memorized over a year ago.

Lana sniffles, and buries her head further into his chest. 

Link sighs, and places his free hand over her head, smoothing down her head as softly as he could. He presses a kiss against the top of her head, and he feels a dull pressure behind his eyes, feels his throat tighten up.

“Lana,” Link starts quietly, voice barely above a whisper. The cold breeze from outside their damaged and broken home whistled, and Link swallowed, focusing on the sound of the heater, focusing on how warm his girlfriend is. “I love you so much.”

Lana breathes in shallowly, and Link feels her tighten her grip on his shirt. “I love you so much more,” she whispers back, voice cracking slightly. She brings a hand up to her face, but Link was unable to see her, see her beauty, see her expression. 

Lana wipes her eyes, and hides her face in Link’s chest once again. 

“I’m sorry, Lana.” Link breathes in shakily, and a couple of stray tears leak out from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks steadily. “Forgive me?”

There’s a choked sob, and Link can tell that Lana bit his shirt as her body begins to shake, hearing Lana’s muffled cries as she tried to suppress it. Link feels his heart shatter at the sound, and he can’t help it when the tears continued to stream down his face a steady rate. 

“Always,” Lana sobs, clenching Link’s shirt as she tilts her head up slightly, revealing red eyes and wet cheeks. Link’s breathing is uneven and shaky as his vision blurs, and Lana hides her face one again. “I’ll always forgive you.”

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 22nd | 12:52pm**

“You’re leaving?” 

“I’m tired, Link.” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, strands that Link would always play with, that he would always have dangling in the space between his fingers. He always played with her hair. “You keep pushing me away.”

“You never pull me back.” He stands up, hesitant to move. His feet were trapped in concrete, and he was being pulled down. Down into the bottom of the ocean, where his lungs burned with every breath he took, just like they did with every puff of smoke he inhaled. Down into the frozen lake where the icy waters pushed him beneath the surface, where he could no longer feel anything, feel himself, just like when he woke up, memories of last night locked away. Down into the abyss, into the void, where he would soon end up. 

“You never asked me to.” 

Link swallows the lump in his throat, feels the burn of last night burn through him once more. The yearning in his chest, the need to feel loved, wanted, to be  _ felt _ . 

He never felt it from her. 

_ Then go. I don’t need you anymore _ . “Please don’t, Lana.”

She sighs, fingers gliding through her hair. Hair that was Link’s to play with, hair that was Link’s to fidget with. Hair that was no longer Link’s to tug and pull at, no longer his to braid and put up. “Link… I can’t do this anymore. I need to go.”

Hands, over his body, brushing his hair, brushing tears away from his eyes, brushing away the pinch in his brow. Brushing away the temporary warmth in his chest, leaving behind the cold, winter chill of the Midwest. She hugs him, before cupping his cheek, whispering bittersweet nothings to him. It didn’t mean anything. 

This didn’t mean anything. 

“Then go,” he whispers.  _ Leave with everything I gave you _ , he wants to say, watching as she picks up her items, her materialistic objects that filled his home.  _ Leave with the small piece of me that you took when we met.  _

And she does, parting with a melancholic smile. 

Link hasn’t seen her since. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | February 29th | 1:04pm**

He keeps expecting a text message from Lana, or a call, or something. 

He keeps expecting her to come back, keeps expecting her to show up, asking him to forgive her. 

And of course he would tell her that  _ ‘always, I will always forgive you _ ,’ no matter the grievance that occurred between them.

No matter what happened, they would always forgive each other. They would.

She had to be back.

Lana was going to come back. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | March 1st | 3:37am**

Link is shaking, trying to light a cigarette, before he throws the box to the ground when the lighter refused to remain lit for more than a second.

His thumb aches from the repeated motion of trying to light his cheap lighter, but that doesn’t matter. His heart  _ aches _ and it’s this moments when everything makes sense. 

Lana isn’t going to come back. 

Lana isn’t going to murmur  _ ‘forgive me’ _ in his ear when the sun began to rose and alerted them of their failed attempt of a normal sleeping schedule, when they would bask in their lethargic afterglow and held each other, guarding the other from the horrors of the world, from the horrors that they possessed. 

Lana isn’t going to smile softly and cup his cheek when he whispers, ‘ _ always, I will always forgive you _ ,’ while he holds her tight against him and plays with her beautiful blue locks, peppering her head with gentle kisses that she could barely register. 

Lana isn’t going to come back. 

Link isn’t going to come back from this.

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | March 2nd | 5:46pm**

He has a Tinder profile now. 

He started talking to a boy named Ravio. 

He organizes a date at a cafe with this man. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | March 2nd | 6:00pm**

Lana is on Tinder. 

Link doesn’t let it consume his every waking thought.

No matter how much he misses her in his arms and in his every moment.

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | March 4th | 3:37pm**

There’s a knock on his door, and Link isn’t going to admit to the desperation he feels when he sprints off of the couch, his cigarette falling to the floor, as he slammed the door opened, panting slightly. 

“Package for Link Arteaga?” 

Right. His mom was sending him things. 

Lana wasn’t going to come back.

Right. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | March 7th | 3:22pm**

Lana sent him a letter. 

Link doesn’t want to look at it, but he knows the anxiety that fills his stomach and flows through the entirety of his veins would never cease until he read what Lana had to say to him. He’s hesitant, fingers shaking slightly, before he decides to pull the letter out of the envelope, and opens it. 

_ Dearest, Link, _

_ I miss you so much. But I can’t be with you. You bring out the worst in me, and I do the same to you. I want to be true to you, always, but I know that I can’t when I’m around you. I’ll never be able to give you the happiness you deserve, and I’ll never be the person that could help you. _

_ I can’t be myself around you, and you can’t either. We’re too dependent on each other, and we can’t live like that. _

_ We can’t be with each other without getting addicted to the other. And that’s why I can’t be with you anymore. I’ll always want to be with you though, Link, but we’re not right for each other. Not like this.  _

_ Yours, and nobody else’s, _

_ Lana _

His lips twitch down into a frown, and he makes his way over to the trash can, and hovers over it or a moment, staring at the content of it. 

His hand shakes, and he almost lets the letter flutter down into his trash can, before he decides to place it on the counter, where he knows he’ll think about it for an indeterminate amount of time, yet never doing anything about it. 

Link steps back, ignores the tug that he feels, where he wants to be drawn to Lana’s letter, and he makes his way up to his room. 

**Brooklyn | E 37th St | March 8th | 1:42am**

Link can’t handle this anymore, and he never craved Lana more than in this moment.

He murmurs to himself, holding the blanket close to his nose, the blanket that he and Lana always huddled underneath of when they ended up sleeping on the couch more often. 

He breathes shakily. 

And he sobs. 

**Author's Note:**

> anyways this prequel was written and a song to go with it would be FACE by brockhampton. the format for this isn't like how it is for a multichap so i cant do what i normally do lmao
> 
> the title makes me think of "Of Mice and Men", it's a little funny. 
> 
> anyways a lot of stuff in this is based off of some of my old relationships, oops, but yeah here's the prequel sequel hope y'all enjoyed


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